


The Shadow of Yesterday

by FoyaBeninax



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoyaBeninax/pseuds/FoyaBeninax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragonborn met a mysterious mer and she learned about his cruel fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shadow of Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time try to write a fanfic in English (which is my second language). All suggestions of improvement are welcomed :)
> 
> It is a story happened in Skyrim, but the core of this story is about Morrowind.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to Bethesda.
> 
> And thanks to my friend (she doesn't have an AO3 account yet) who help me edit the spelling and grammar mistakes.

Nothing could comfort workers who spend their entire day deep down the mine and tired travelers more than the roaring hearth fire and hot soup in a tavern, on such a chilly early spring evening. Silgvia was seated at a table in the hall of Retching Netch, a bottle of Fillin in her hands and miners’ chatting in her ears. The semi-underground, windowless Redoran style building was always dark inside; fortunately, the swaying light of candles flared brightly, softening the darkness in every corner.

Silgvia took a sip from a cup on the table, then dropped it, grabbing the Fillin again. She always preferred the Dunmer’s strong booze rather than Nordic mead. Someone said it was because of the energy of magic burning in her blood, though she seemed like a typical Nordic woman inherited a fit body from her warrior ancestors. She came back to Solstheim seeking knowledge of magic, but became involved in some other affair soon after her arrival, as was what usually happened to her.

“There is stalhrim hidden under the mine! I’m telling you. You should have gotten an Ancient Nordic Pickaxe; we would have been rich by now,” a brown-eyed Dunmer yelled to another miner.

“I don’t care about it. I heard much more precious treasures are under the mine. Hey, what’s with the face? You don’t believe me? Then ask the Dragonborn; she is right here.” The other miner, looking a little drunk, pointed at Silgvia with a shaking finger.“ A fantastic sword, isn’t it?”

“Really? I thought it’s nothing but old Crescius’ pathetic daydream.”

All eyes fixed on the green eyed Nord woman. Silgvia remained silent, yet nodded.

“So it’s true! See? I’m telling you!” The brown-eyed Dunmer miner was excited, spilling his booze to the table.

“Then can you tell us the truth—a monster is in the mine?”

“A dragon priest. Ash now.” She answered without lifting her head.

“No, no. I’m not talking about that. It is a huge ash spawn. Do you remember last time when Ralis was attacked? He was bleeding a river! He has been at the healer’s for a week.”

“Ralis is wounded?” Silgiva rolled her sleeve and took a glance at the scars on her arm. They were from the fighting with Ralis when he was possessed by Ahzidal under the barrow. He was a tricky opponent, she had to admit. However, she spared his life, considering he was not himself at the time. After that he came to Raven Rock and worked as a miner, leaving all his frivolous treasure-hunting dreams behind.

“You never heard about it? Some new kind of monster—I don’t know what it is, there are monsters everywhere nowadays. It’s deep in the mine, said to be like a ash spawn, but by no means a normal one. I’m telling you—”

Naris, sitting right behind him, twitched his hips, “Nonsense. Never listen to that old fetcher. I never believe a single word from Ralis’ mouth.”

“Of course, of course. By the way, did you pay him back the debt from your last game yet?” Someone giggled.

“Shut your damn mouth!”

Sligvia ignored the mess in the hall, enjoying her Fillin, all the clues she had found about ash spawn attack whirling in her head. No evidence showed that it had anything to do with the monster—if there truly was one—under the mine. But she was not sure. Too many mysteries in the information she had, yet too little sense she could make out of it. The only thing she could assure herself of was the involvement of some strong and ancient magic. That was why she was willing to help Captain Veleth conduct the investigation.

The bickering miners started to sing some ancient Dunmer ballad, about how Sotha Sil made a contract with Daedric Princes in Oblivian to protect Tamriel in time of crisis. The rule of Tribunal had been over for more than two hundred years, but their stories were still remembered by the people—even if nobody knew whether they were true or false. Silgvia’s thoughts started to stray away, fading into the warmth in the hall of Retching Netch.

Suddenly the cold wind poured into the hall, together with the arrival of another guest. Silgvia’s tipsy, busy thoughts were blown out by the chilly air of Solstheim. She turned around, looking at the guest stepping down the stairs.

He was a tall, slim person. His body was wrapped in a long gray robe, ad face covered by a scarf, with only crimson eyes and dark gray ear tips able to be seen. He is a Dunmer. Silgvia thought, or at least a Mer is a safe guess. He came in quietly, without heavy steps or interrupting any conversation. However, as he approached Geldis, the tavern owner, all eyes in the hall shot to him.

Silgvia curled her lips, she looked at him with curiosity. He attracted attention like a magnet attracts iron. It was a trait which had nothing to do with his behavior or dress, but seemed as though he was with gifted with it. However, Silgvia had a vague feeling that some magic power was behind this trait. It might be an artifact or a spell, of which she had no clue, neither did she know what kind of magic had such an effect.

“May I rent a room, please?” the guest asked Gldis politely.

“My apologies, sir, but all rooms here been rented,” Geldis said.

“Then could you check for me whether there is an empty bed in any room? I can pay the full rent if someone kind enough who could share a room with me. You know, it is a bad idea to stay outdoors through the freezing night.”

“You are definitely right, sir. Let me take a look for you, just a moment.” Galdis opened up his log.

Silgvia’s eyes were kept on the guest. It was hard to tell his age by his voice. He didn’t sound like an old mer, but spoke as one.

Gladis said, “there is only one room with a double bed rent by one guest. Unfortunately, she is a lady. It seems not convenient for her to share the room with you. I’m really sorry…”

Silgvia stoop up, “I can share with him.” She sized up the mysterious guest, “No inconvenience. I can put a magic barrier in the middle of the bed and room. It will be a bad idea to force it unless he wants to be thrown against the wall.” She twiddled her fingers, slight magic sparkles leaping between them.

The guest turned to her, and bowed, “I appreciate it very much, ma'am. I promise you I will never do anything offensive.”

“Ha, men’s sweet words!” Bralsa laughed, “Given a chance, they will turn to beasts. Be careful, Dragonborn.”

“In the name of Azura, I swear if won’t happen. Actually, I am interested in men.”

“That sounds even more suspicious,” Bralsa narrowed her eyes. “A Khajiit said the same words to me, but he turned out to be such a sleaze.”

“But that was not a lie. He never said he didn’t like women.” Another Dunmer woman teased.

Silgvia waved her hand to the guest, signaling him to come with her to their room.

 

The guest sat down on one side of the bed, taking off his robe and scarf. Silgvia finished her magic barrier on the bed and was about to expending it across the room when she saw him turned around without any cover on his face. The magic light in her hand disappeared.

“I decide to trust you,” she said, “I can feel something…special about you. You are not ordinary, nor a bad person.”

It seemed like the coldness of last winter was crystallized in his eyes, making the gaunt face looked more solemn. His appearance, like his voice, never indicated any sign of aging. However, Silgvia was able to tell at a glance that he had experienced a lot.

His life must have been tough. Silgvia thought.

“Even if you had some…intention,” she added, grinning, “it would not be any loss of mine.”

The guest didn’t respond. He looked lost in some deep thoughts for several minutes, until Silgvia cleared her throat, extending her hand to him.

“I’m Silgvia.”

“Anrulls.” He shook her hand. It felt like he was holding a piece of ice in his palm. The warmth in the room had not repelled the coldness in his body.

“First time to Raven Rock?”

“Kind of.” He leaned against the headboard.

“What does that even mean? You are not sure if you’ve been here before? Sounds like you lost your memory.”

“I keep the memory of this town, but it has lost itself.”

These words were the tip of the iceberg. She gazed at his eyes, trying to read something more from this mysterious guest.

“This is not the Raven Rock I used to know,” he continued, “It was…my child. The flesh and blood of me and my love. But it was totally changed. Nothing left but my memory.”

Silgvia was about to ask more questions. However, Anrulls closed his eyes, with a deep sigh from his throat.

“I should have known this.”

And he fell into silence as if he had fallen asleep right at that the moment.

 

When Silgvia woke up next morning, the other side of the bed had been empty. She was not sure if he would come back again—until she left the Retching Netch and saw Anrulls was talking with Captain Veleth in the street.

“…Yes, you are right…”

She approached them, noticing the new blood stain on Anrulls’ robe. He didn’t wear his scarf today. His face was sweaty.

“…I don’t know much about the history of this place. And I don’t care what happened in the past,” Veleth said, “but the ash spawns were here before the refugees first settled. I heard about it.”

“So nobody knows where they are from?” Anrulls asked.

“The scholars have theories, I need none of them. I just need my weapon. If they come inside Raven Rock, I’ll make sure they go back to ashes. I don’t care what in Oblivion they are.”

“I heard about the ash spawn attack. I can give a hand.”

“I appreciate if very much, sir. You have already helped a lot this morning, I shouldn’t ask more. But we definitely need your marvelous power. Actually, the Dragonborn is investigating the attack. Whenever we get more clues, we will have a lot of work to do…Hey! There she is!” Veleth waved to Silgiva. “Good morning, Dragonborn.”

“Morning, gentlemen.” Silgvia pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. “I apologize for overhearing your conversation. But I guess I got what you need.”

Veleth took a glance at the simple note, frowning and mumbling, “this is not right. No, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“I think it is clear enough,” Silgvia held her arms to her chest, saying with a grin, “General Falx Carius is the commander. If we kill him, there will be no more problem.”

“There will be if he was already dead.”

“For two hundred years,” Anrulls followed.

“You heard about him? The only thing I know about this general is he died before we came here,” Veleth said.

“I have met him—alive, not a ghost.”

Silgvia tilted her head, rubbing her chin, “Anrulls, do you mind telling me your age?”

“Two hundred and forty-three.”

Silgvia shook her head, “If it is not a lie, it has to be a miracle.”

Veleth was still gazing at the note, his eyes almost burning a hole in the paper.

“Fort Frostmoth, Falx Carius is there right now. But it has been abandoned for two hundred years. It is a ruin and nobody lives there.” Veleth scratched his head. “Honestly, I am not sure what to do now. Are we facing a ghost, or a zombie?”

Anrulls shook his head, saying, “it doesn’t matter. I’m going to meet him again anyway.”

 

It was a cloudy day. A feeling of doom and depression grew on the maroon land under the lead-gray sky, which made Silgvia’s journey even more dull. She began to think it was a bad idea following Anrulls to Fort Frostmoth after a little while—he was focused and silent, head low and long legs moving so fast that she could barely keep up with him. She was used to being the one who moved fast and complained about by her followers. However, today she had to ask him to slow down after a few minutes of walking, which made her confirm her first impression of him: He wasn’t an ordinary person, not even close.

Walking past an area of low ground right outside the town, Anrulls started to move haltingly, eyes scanning around, searching for something.

“Do you mind if I walk around here for a while? I’m looking for an old tomb. This is important for me.” Anrulls turned back to Silgvia.

“I don’t mind.” She shrugged, “But I have been here a couple of times. There is no tomb or anything looks like that, just flat ground, Scathecraw, Trama Root, and numerous ash spawns. Somehow they like it here. But if you want to try your luck, I can follow.”

“Thank you very much.” Anrulls headed to the east. Silgvia was right. Only a few minutes later, they saw the flickering of the lava-liked eyes of ash spawns. Their rocky, ahsy bodies raised from the earth, ferociously and swiftly, like tiny volcanoes that could erupt at any time.

Easily and quickly, they took all three of the first ash spawns, but two more raised behind Silgvia. Her Ice Storm froze one of them back to ash, unexpectedly it exploded right next to her. She bounced back when the fiery breath of the other one was almost on her neck. It was too late to dodge; she barely had time to add an Ebonyflesh on herself, getting ready for taking the hit.

The ash spawn’s claws dropped with a sharp strike towards her neck. She quivered from its sulphury smell and burning exhale. This is gonna hurt. She thought.

It did hurt, but not as she expected—she was pushed away, falling on the ground, with an ice atronach crouched over her body. At that moment, she saw the as spawn fall and exploded a few steps away. Anrulls was standing not far away, holding a barrier and a bound sword. He coughed from the ash disturbed by the explosion, yet not hurt.

The atronach disappeared as Silgvia touched it with a banishing spell. She jumped up, dusting off her face and hair.

“I’m sorry, Silgvia. That’s the only way I came up with to protect you. Are you hurt?” Anrulls asked.

“The shield was too heavy for me, but it worked well. I’m fine. Thank you,” she said with a low voice, feeling embarrassed for the fact that an ash spawn almost got her, and someone else had to protect her. She was too used to protecting others, even the world, and was proud of it. It was not common for her to face a situation like this.

“Didn’t expect the explosion. First time I’ve met an ash spawn like that,” she added, trying to ease herself from embarrassment.

“Your power is impressive,” Anrulls said, “You killed the first one in one hit.”

Actually, she had been about to say the same thing to Anrulls. He moved like a tempest and hit like lightning. He got the first wave of ash spawns almost by himself. And more impressively, he was unfazed, even in battles. That was nothing like the roaring warriors and irritated mages she had met before.

“You impressed me as well.” She smiled, “You are skilled and experienced in combat, I can tell.”

“Thank you,” Anrulls said, turning his head another direction. “You are right. The tomb I am looking for is not here, or it used to be, but the landscape has changed so much during these years. If it was here, it must have been buried deep under earth and ash.”

“It might be, but as far as I know, there is only one burial location at the Temple. I never saw any other tombs around Raven Rock. Did you check the Temple?”

“It’s not there.” Anrulls shook his head. “And I hope not. He was an Imperial. He didn’t like the Dunmeri tradition of cremating the dead.”

Silgvia was about to ask more, yet hesitated, not sure if it was proper to ask who he was talking about. However, he seemed to know her doubt already.

“He was the man I loved, and I miss him dearly till now.” Anrulls’ voice was soft, filling with emotion derived from deep and old memories. She read from his face how precious they were for him.

That was the moment she felt a little closer to this mysterious, seeming unfeeling mer.

“I’m sorry.” She placed a hand on his arm.

“No, I could see this result from the very beginning. I knew I would live a long life, longer than any mer; but he was a human. I knew I would have to face his death and bury him, moving on alone. But I never foresaw it coming so fast.”

“What happened?”

“The Red Year.”

She nodded. The Red Year, the destruction of Vvardenfell, death, and suffering, refugees and conflict—a lot happened in that year, making for many beginning and endings.

“He was hit by shards of the Red Mountain, as what happened to Falx Clarius. The original Raven Rock was mostly destroyed. Only a few residents survived, and I am one of them.”

“Sounds like you lost everything in that year.”

A bitter smile showed up on Anrulls’ face, “Yes, everything. And it was, at least partly, because of me—my fate.”

Fate. She heard this word all the time ever since her secret was revealed. As the Last Dragonborn, her fate was on the Elder Scrolls. However, even she had read them, walked the path they revealed to her, and reached the destinies they predicted, she still insisted everything she had done was out of her free will. She believed that fate is nothing but what someone predicts for themselves in the past when they look back.

But she was young, compared with Anrulls who had been through so many years and tragedies—instinct told her that he had more stories than what she already learned, and most of them were probably unpleasant. She sensed desperation from his words about his fate. It might be the only destination of a path full of struggling and agony.

When she finally collected her thoughts, she found that Anrulls had started on the way to Fort Frostmoth.

 

As Veleth said, Fort Frostmoth was a ruin, lifeless and dangerous. From far away they could smell the disturbance of ash spawns in the air. They began to attack whenever they sensed the existence of living souls around them. After a strenuous fight, Silgvia saw Anrulls pick up something in the remaining ash pile of an ash spawn.

“What is this?” He showed her a red stone.

“You noticed it? I’m not sure what it is. People here call the stones ash spawns leave ‘heart stones’. They believed these magic stones serve as ash spawns’ hearts, which makes sense to me.”

“That’s Red Mountain magic. I can feel it.”

“As expected,” Silgvia said, “Looks like pieces of Red Mountain are everywhere in Solstheim.”

“And make it look more like Morrowind rather than Skyrim. That’s so different. It more resembles Skyrim when I lived here. Fort Frostmoth,” he looked up to the top of the ruined fort, said, “was so prosperous and lively at that time. The East Empire Company did business here. They also had representatives living here. That was how everything started.”

“Everything?”

“My job in East Empire Company, Raven Rock, and my love.”

Silgvia smiled, yet frowned. Inside the original founding of Raven Rock was said to be full of violence and conspiracy. The involvement of some important figure solved the conflict. But the details had been worn away by time. She wondered what role he played in the almost forgotten history. It must have been important, she thought.

They fought their way into the castle. The voice of Falx echoed in the hall, arranging attack to Raven Rock.

“We are just in time,” Silgiva said after she killing an ash spawn, turning to Anrulls.

Anrulls didn’t respond. Silgvia was not sure if he was listening at all. His eyes were scanning the hall—cracked pillars lay in earthen piles; dust and ash coated a crumbled stairway. The place was dilapidated, but as Anrulls eyes turning distant, he smiled, as if looking at the prosperous fort of two hundred years ago.

“Anrulls? Are you alright?”

“Uh…aye. I’m good.”

“You looked lost in some memories. Did you meet…him here?”

“No. Actually I met his enemy here.” He glanced at her, “Come this way.”

Anrulls knew well about this place. He always found the right door and opened secret paths. They almost reached the top of the castle. However, a heavy stone door shut them away from the last stairway.

“There should be a lever. Let me check around.” Anrulls opened a door, “It’ might be here.”

“You do know a lot about Fort Frostmoth,” Silgiva said, “You are indeed from the last era.”

“I have told you. I think you trusted me. Did you just realize I told you the truth?”

“My instinct and feeling told me to trust you, but my reasoning mind partly refused to.”

“I understand. I’m actually a little surprised why haven’t you asked me anything yet.”

“I have asked you some questions.”

“You know those were irrelevant.”

“Not really, but you are right, I am curious about you. However, I don’t think you want to tell me anything, at least not now.”

Anrulls was silent for a while, then said slowly, “I just don’t see why. I didn’t know you until yesterday. You can’t help anything or change anything, nor can I help you with anything. I apologize if this is offensive, but I have no intention to be friends with anyone. I just want to be left alone.”

“Then why did you even come with me?”

“We happen to have the same goal. I don’t like ash spawns either.” Anrulls’ fingers knocked on the wall. He paused to listen before moving, “I think the lever is somewhere in the walls. We’ll meet Flax soon, and maybe you can learn more about me then.”

He walked till the end of the wall, facing a door.

“Maybe in that room. Somehow they changed the layout of this place. There was no door like this before.”

The door didn’t look like part of the castle. Silgvia opened it with great care and lit the torch on the wall.

It was a prison. Iron bars separated a few cells. Only one prisoner was in there, sleeping on some straw. She was a gaunt Dunmer. The only difference between her and a skeleton was the skin on her bones. When they walked in, she slightly lifted her eyelids and shut her eyes again.

“The lever must be over there.” Anrulls pointed to the wall inside the cell. Silgvia saw a square on the wall that looked darker than the bricks around it.

“Door is locked.” Silgvia shook the door, “oh, the lock hole was protected by magic. No lock picking.”

She knocked on the bars, making noises to wake up the prisoner.

“Please do us a favor!” Silgvia tried her best to explain that they could get her out of here if she helped them pull the lever. But she was sitting there still, eyes glazed, having no response.

“I know you want to get out of here! I promise we can—”

“No, I don’t,” the Dunmer woman said and laid down again.

“This place is messed up!” Silgvia complained, looking at Anrulls, “What should we do now?”

“She looks soulless. I don’t know what happened to her, but it must have been a real nightmare.” Anrulls squatted down, “Maybe I can try to convince her.”

“How?”

Anrulls extended his right hand into the cell, fingertips barely touching the woman.

“Wake up, you need to help us.”

The woman stood up, shaking and shuffling, walking towards Anrulls.

Silgvia sensed a strong magic power emanating from Anrulls. He didn’t reason with or beg the prisoner, but she followed his instruction to open the wall and pull the lever.

Silgvia stared at the ring on his finger. Finally, all the secrets, even seemingly crazy words of Anrulls started to make sense to her.

“Moon-and-Star,” she grinned, “The Nerivarine, welcome back.”

 

The floor shook as the weighty stone door was lifted. Through the dust and earth dropping from the ceiling, Silgvia saw General Falx Carius. He was standing in the top room with axe in his hands.

“He was Captain Carius the first time I came here. He was a nice man, asking me if I wanted a job in East Empire Company,” Anrulls said, summoning his bound sword, “But I’m not sure if he remembers me anymore.”

“Attack…” Falx’s eyes looked forward, unseeingly, “Kill them all!”

“Necromancy,” Silgvia said.

“But not quite normal. See his chest?”

There was a red light flickering at where his heart should be, like a magic heart beating in his chest.

“A heart stone?”

“Also, not a normal one. I assume this is the one which killed him. Someone took advantage of it and made it a powerful heart stone to resurrect him.”

“Invaders!” Craziness and blood-lust in his eyes, Falx raised his axe.

“General Carius,” Anrulls stepped forward, said, “If your soul is here, please listen to me.”

The legend said it was with the help of magic ring Moon-and-Star, blessed by Azura and enchanted by Dwemers, that ancient hero Nerevar persuaded all Chimeri Great Houses, even Dwemers, to unite and rebel against Nords in the first era. She had seen the great power of the ring, but still not sure if it would affect a dead man.

Falx grinned creepily, “You, the Nerevarine. I know you.”

“Please, stop the attack. Raven Rock is not your enemy. And I need your help.”

“You are the hero of Raven Rock. You killed East Empire Company representative, Carnius Magius, and saved the town. It was a shame, a bit loss of Empire. The Empire needed control over its colony, not merely business! You deserve to die for messing with Empire affairs!”

Falx roared, rushing towards them. Two ash spawns raised from each side.

“That’s a miss, Moon-and-Star.” Silgvia giggled, a Storm Rune was already shaped at her feet.

“Not totally. His soul is still here; the magic affected him, that’s why he responded me.” An ice atronach appeared at Anrulls’ side, “But his soul has been twisted and polluted. He is not himself anymore.”

Ash spawns screamed in the blast of lightning. Falx waved his axe. His magic set half of the room on fire. He was intimidating, but never got a chance to best the two heroes of their times.

The fire died out with the fell of Falx. In the ash pile, his only remains, Silgvia found a note, half destroyed, but readable.

Hold your strike…Corresponding with Raven Rock mine…wait for…Galenus…

“No!” Anrulls cried out, eyes staring at the note. It was the first time Silgvia ever saw him in such a panic.

“What’s wrong? Are you worrying about ash spawn attack from the min? I think Captain Veleth has…”

“No…” Anrulls breathed rapidly, shaking his head.

“Let’s go back to Raven Rock now.”

“You don’t understand…” Anrulls leaned back against the wall. His body slipped down to the ground slowly. “I’m not going back. Raven Rock is not important now. I can’t go back…”

“Is there something, or someone you don’t want to face?”

“Too much…Vvardenfell is gone. My past has been swallowed by the lava of Red Mountain. But the shadow is always there; the nightmare never ends.”

The unfazed, mysterious Dunmer, the reincarnation of a legendary king, the hero who save the whole Tamriel from Dagoth Ur and Blight, was sitting in ash and dirt, like a helpless child. Yes, whatever the nightmare was, it never ended. The Nerevarine was blessed, and cursed, that neither time nor disease could claim his life, or change him. Whatever burden he had, he had to carry it until the end of time.

Silgvia sighed, turning back. His secret was not important for her anymore, at least now at the moment. She knew that Raven Rock needed her.

 

It was a relief to see Raven Rock was alright. All the workers gathered outside the entrance of the min. Some of them were wounded. Fortunately, nobody was missing or dead. Captain Veleth was not that lucky though. When Silgvia found him deep in the mine tunnel, his armor was covered with blood and dirt. She killed the ash spawns surrounding him and pulled him out of the tunnel.

“The healer is coming. Go up there. I’ll deal with the monsters.”

“Damn it! I thought I got this…uh…” Veleth moaned. A deep wound was on his belly.

“Go now, if you can walk.”

“I can. You must be careful; there is a tricky one. I have to admit it’s terrifying.”

“I will.”

Silgvia lit the Magelight, walking into the tunnel under the mine. There was no ebony to be found in this deep, only danger and unknown lurking in the darkness.

This tunnel was not here when she came down last time. It looked like something broke out from inside. It must have been something very forceful. She took every step with vigilance, but only found a few ash spawns. They were bigger than normal, and explosive, yet not a challenge for her. Eventually, a huge grotto appeared at the end of the tunnel.

Between two burning fire piles, she saw a figure standing there, holding a sword. It looked half-man, half-ash spawn. She could even picture his appearance as a man from the twisted, stonily face.

“It’s mine…It’s all mine…” The monster walked towards Silgiva, “I’ll take it back…from Dark Elves!”

His blade began to burn. She smelled sulfur, madness, and death.

It was a bloody fight. Silgvia was wounded, but she managed to strike the monster back to a small concave in the wall. He was held inside by her magic barrier, screaming, bleeding lava from the crack on his stone-like skin. She could feel her magic draining up, knowing that the stalemate wouldn’t last long.

The barrier broke without warning. As a flare burst out of the monster’s body, she was pushed back by the force and fell to the ground. She struggled, trying to get up before the monster came close to her. However, he was faster than any ash spawn she had ever met. His stomp was just at her ears in the next second. She could feel the burning wind moving with his sword. She rolled over, dodging the attack, looking for a way to draw back to the tunnel.

However, the monster froze all in a sudden, staring at something behind her. She turned her head back, finding Anrulls standing at the entrance.

“You are back!” She shouted.

A deafening roar burst from the monster’s throat. It was full of anger and madness. The grotto started to shake, rocks and dirt falling from the top, looking like the whole mine was collapsing. Silgvia lowered her body, preparing her spell for the following strike.

But it never came.

The monster, unexpectedly, hesitated, and stepped back slowly. She gazed at the fire in his eyes. It turned into something different, she realized, different from the violence and madness in there when she facing him alone. Her eyes turned to Anrulls, who was standing in the center of the grotto, bound sword pointing at the monster. His face was emotionless, but somehow, she knew he was in great grief.

The monster drew back to the concave in the wall, holding his sword in front of his chest with a defending posture.

“Fight me,” Anrulls said with a calm voice.

“It's…YOU.”

“Yes, I’m back. I’m here to stop you. Step forward; end this madness.”

“I refuse…” The monster sounded intimidated.

It was not fear, Silgvia sensed. No, he was not afraid of Anrulls; it was his soul struggling.

“Fight me, Falco!” Anrulls cried out and lunged towards him, his sword striking to the beating heart stone in his left chest.

In the bright firelight, she saw the tears in Anrulls’ eyes.

No defense or parrying, the monster was quiet and still. Anrulls’ blue light of magic blade impaled his ashy body.

“Thank you.” He let out a sigh, smiling, and turned into ash.

Tears blurred Silgvia’s eyesight. She saw Anrulls kneel down, picking up the shattered heart stone.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s alright.” Anrulls shook his head, “I am meant to kill him…I almost did…”

“What…”

“I almost killed him, two hundred years ago.” He sat down, looking at the fire. There was no tear in his eyes anymore.

“Carnius was the representative of East Empire Company in Solstheim, and Falco Galenus was vice to him. Falco was the one who actually started Raven Rock, and wanted it to thrive. But Carnius only care about getting stalhrim from the mine. I was working for Falco, but secretly helping Carnius steal stalhrim and ebony. Honestly, I didn’t care about the town. Carnius’ pay was much better.”

“But they had a direct conflict?”

“Close enough. Carnius ordered me to kill Falco. He gave me a poisoned arrow. A minor scratch of the arrow would kill. I remember standing on the watchtower, bowstring tightened, the deadly arrow pointing at him,” he said, smiling, putting his hand on the ash pile left over by Falco. “It was in that minute I realized that deep from my heart, I loved him so much.”

Silgvia didn’t find a word to say. She went to Anrulls, and sat down next to him.

“I lived with him for about ten years. We built and managed Raven Rock together. It was a prosperous little town until the Red Year.”

“People said you went to Arkavir after the prophet of the Nerevarine was fulfilled.”

“I did, but it was after the disaster, not in the third era.”

“You must have been through a lot of pain and grief.”

“Even though I knew I would lose him sometime in my life, it still hurt me when everything was destroyed so thoroughly; everything we built together, and him…And what happened today, I…” He stopped, burying his face in his palms.

“It was…well…” Silgvia murmured, trying to find some proper words for the situation.

“I remember I told him the best decision in my life was putting down the bow. But eventually, I had to take his life…”

“No, you didn’t kill him,” Silgvia interrupted, “He was already dead. He was killed by the Red Mountain.”

She regretted as soon as she said it. She thought she knew his response before he said anything.

“It doesn’t make any difference. The Red Year happened because of me.”

“No, no, I mean…I mean, that’s not your fault. It was the Tribunal. They stole the power and…”

“Whatever they did, it was connected with my fate—from the time of Nerevar. I was meant to be the cause of all of this,” he said with an adamant voice.

“Even if he hadn’t died in that year, he wouldn’t have been alive today. You can’t kill a dead man.”

“But if it was not for the shards of Red Mountain, there would not be these magic stones, and he would never have been turned into a monster.”

Silgvia lowered her head. At the moment, she felt real desperation, something she had never felt, even when facing Alduin and Miraak. It was the desperation of fate, of all the powerlessness and irony in life.

“I shouldn’t have come back.” Anrulls picked up the splintered heart stone and ash, putting them on a piece of cloth.

“Why did you?”

“I had been everywhere on Nirn. I was tired and I wanted to go home. I mistakenly thought it was all over long ago so that I could finally have a peaceful life here. I was so wrong.”

“Maybe it is over now.”

“I don’t care anymore.” He stood up, walking slowly to the tunnel. The fires were dying out, darkness growing around Silgvia. Before his figure merged into the lightless tunnel, she heard him saying farewell.

She didn’t say anything, standing still like a statue. Various images flying in her head: Her house in Folkreth; her steward and guard; the horse, cow and chickens; of course, her adopted daughter, a sweet little girl.

Maybe it is time to go home. She told herself.


End file.
